I cut in line, I bled to death. When I got to you there was nothing left.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 4

This is the final part of the story. Yes I know I took a while to do this, but reliving that awful memory has been harder than I thought it was gonna be.

So when I stopped last, I had managed , with every ounce of my strength, to walk to up to Bala Subramaniam. He stood frozen, perplexed at how someone could withstand that amount of punishment like I had yet still show some fight.

I knew this was my one chance, before he recovered from his shock. I raised my tiny fists and started pounding them on his chest with whatever strength I could muster. I felt him stagger back. I pushed onward with my fists flailing forward, pressing my advantage.

Suddenly I found myself on the floor again. My ears were ringing and I had this dull pain in my head. I tried to get up , but my legs had given up on me. Then I saw this shadow over me. It was Bala. He started guffawing in the worst way possible, it sounded like the noise a hyena would make after cornering its prey.

"You hit like a girl, Bert. Actually I seen girls who hit way better than you, you freaking loser."

With that final verbal barb and a kick to my already broken ribs, he left.

It took me almost a year to recover from my injuries. I never spoke to anyone about what happened.

I never saw Bala and Raquel again, they left the school while I was still in the hospital. I found out much much later that she had married Bala and the had moved to New Zealand and are now married with 4 kids. I wrote one final poem for her.

Adieu my love, my one and only.
The pain you caused me , I would never wish on nobody
I now fucking hate you, I hope you die
In a car crash or a fire, or me cutting your heart out while you lie
Then I will eat your babies alive, before they even have a chance to cry
Then i will find all your relatives and stab them with my kitchen knife
But not before I sever their limbs first, laughing while they beg for their life.
Damn it, I still love you, despite your evilness and your complete lack of culpability
Come back to me and I will forgive you, we will start over and I promise you , live very happily.

Sadly I never got a reply. I am pretty sure she is miserable now, maybe it's her shame that is stopping her from responding to me like I know she wants to. Oh well, we all make our own choices and we live with the consequences.